


Someone in the Crowd

by Cloechecksmyflow



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dan Howell and Phil Lester Are Soulmates, Fluff, I started and couldn’t stop, M/M, Pianist Dan Howell, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, businessman phil lester, honestly this is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:03:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15647979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloechecksmyflow/pseuds/Cloechecksmyflow
Summary: When Phil went out with his family for his mother’s birthday, the last thing he expected was to receive a surprise himself.





	Someone in the Crowd

Phil’s life was getting boring. Well, at least that’s the way he felt. He had grown up being sure that his name and ‘nine-to-five’ would never be in the same sentences, and yet here he was. He had started working at this company as soon as he turned twenty-two. One of his father’s friends had offered him the position and he was dying to move out from home and be independent, so he accepted. And here he was, eight years later, faking his way through life.

To anybody who saw him, he seemed confident, with his head held high and his tailored suits. He would walk through the glass doors of the building, kindly nod his head at the people he passed on his way and enter his office without looking back. What no one saw was the way he’d slump against the wooden door, or heard him sigh after pretending. That’s what he did; he pretended. He was _always_ pretending. Pretending to be happy with his job, pretending to like his co-workers (to be fair, most of them were nice people), pretending to care. How awful is it to not even _care_? He promised himself he’d be happy, that he’d do something he’d love. Then why was he still here?

Today was not different, except for the fact that he had a raging headache and it didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. He pulled himself together, pushed away from the door and walked to his desk. Another day full of paperwork, a few meetings here and there and many, many people to deal with. Also, he had promised his brother they would have a nice family dinner that night (it was his mum’s birthday, after all), so there’s that. He was really looking forward to that, to be honest. If there was one thing Phil Lester couldn’t fake is how much he loved his family; even Cornelia, his sister-in-law. She and Martyn had found each other at a park a few years before and Phil would find any excuse he could to hang out with them. Soulmates made such beautiful couples. The _are_ matches made in heaven, after all.

He was just thinking of giving her a phone call when there was a knock on his door. He abandoned his train of thought, rubbed his temples, took a deep breath and said a firm “come in” to whoever was outside. A slender man with greyish hair and sharp looks was leaning against the frame of his door and looked at him with a subtle smirk on his face. Phil knew that smirk way too well and it never meant good news for him.

“What do you want, Scott? It’s too early and I haven’t had my coffee yet.” He mumbled loud enough for the other man to hear. He turned his chair towards the drawers on his desk and took an aspirin from a small box with a neatly hand-painted red cross on top. It was a gift Cornelia had given him on his last birthday, when he had started having terrible migraines. _‘Aren’t you worried’_ she’d say _‘about not finding them on time?’_. Phil wasn’t truly worried about that, but his migraines were getting worse as time went by and everybody knew what that meant: he was running out of time. They would only get worse and worse until he either found his soulmate or they killed him, whatever happened first. Who would’ve said that he’d be ‘running out of time’ at thirty?

“Why do you always greet me like this? You’re mean to me.” It didn’t take a genius to notice he was just being annoying. Phil couldn’t bare with him, not today.

“My head is about to explode and I have a shit ton of stuff to do. Do you need anything or are you here just to be a pain on my neck?” His patience was wearing thin and the day had barely started.

Scott still hadn’t moved from his spot at the door but he looked down at the papers he was holding. “Noah was going to bring you these papers for today’s meeting but I thought _'wouldn’t Phil just love to see me? Maybe we can even go have breakfast together'_.”

“And what gave you the impression I would say yes? Haven’t all my previous rejections given you a signal or something?”

“I just don’t get it. Why not? We don’t need to be soulmates to hook up, you know?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t do hookups, Scott. Now please, give me those papers and leave. I have more important things to do.” He stood up, took the papers from his hands and dismissed his irritating coworker, literally pushing him out the door and shutting it on his face.

A ‘let me know if you change your mind!’ was heard from the other said but he couldn’t care less at this point. Scott was a drama queen and everybody there knew that.

\-------

After making his way to the kitchen (it was more like a kitchenette) and serving himself some coffee and a chocolate chip cookie, he went back to his office and got ready to face the day. It was the small things in life that made him happy, after all. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but a text from his brother made him realise he was running late for dinner, so he put his remaining paperwork in a suitcase he took with him everywhere, folded his suit jacket over his forearm and walked out the building on his trademark secure fashion. But as soon as he got to the entry of the building and was sure no one could see him, he ran all the way to his car. His mother would kill him.

To his surprise, she received him with a big smile, took his face on her hands and kissed him on both cheeks.

“Look at you! So grown up and handsome!”

He couldn’t help but let out a light laugh at his mother and kept greeting the rest of his family. His father was sitting next to her and Martyn and Cornelia were on the opposite side of the table, so he had no choice but to sit at the head.

“It’s not nice to be late for your mother’s birthday, Philip.” Martyn mocked him, putting on a fake posh accent.

“A queen is never late. Everyone else is simply early, brother.” He answered back with a side smirk.

“Don’t go quoting Julie Andrews. You know what that does to me.” Cornelia started fake-fanning herself with a napkin and made everyone erupt in laughter and drop the facades.

They didn’t notice the petite woman who approached their table with a little notepad and pen in hand, ready to start writing. “Are you all ready to order?”

\-------

With food served in front of them and someone playing the piano in the background, they started to eat and enjoy their meal. Family time was always Phil’s favourite because he didn’t need to pretend. They wanted him to be happy and this was his happy place, so it was a win-win situation.

Their light banter turned into loud laughter, but something made Phil stop. He felt as if he was in one of those movies where everything around you becomes blurry except for yourself and one other thing. One other person, more precisely.

Suddenly, some strange force made him pay attention to the music and he felt as if each note was written for him. A soft voice with a thick accent filled his ears and nothing could distract him from it, not even a subtle burn on his forearm. He couldn’t even notice his headache anymore. How could he? This was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, so rich in colours. It reminded him of wood, and warmth, and marshmallows. His eyes made their own way towards the piano and ended up fixed on the man playing, but all he could see was the back of his long sleeved white t-shirt and a head full of fluffy, brown hair.

 

**_Tienes la invitación y sabes la dirección_ **

**_Estás perdiendo el norte, no tienes otra opción_ **

**_Un encuentro inesperado podría ser tu solución_ **

**_Aguanta un poco_ **

 

Phil had no idea what those lyrics meant or why they were in Spanish, but the melody sounded familiar. Nevertheless, he couldn’t tear his eye away from the man.

 

**_Esta noche comienza nuestra nueva misión_ **

**_Y si es lo que esperamos_ **

**_Dios, ayúdanos!_ **

**_Si vas y los deslumbras, tu nombre van a recordar_ **

**_Y estás más cerca_ **

 

Where had he heard that song before? He knew some place in the back of his brain was tingling and not precisely because of the honey-like effect this voice had on him.

 

**_En la multitud alguien te podría esperar_ **

**_Alguien que te pueda levantar_ **

**_En la multitud alguien te podría guiar_ **

**_Si preparado estás para brillar_ **

**_He felt like he’d blacked out for a few moments and caught the last bit of a verse. Why couldn’t he concentrate? What was wrong with him?_ **

**_Y las estrellas hoy se van a alinear_ **

**_Y sabrás si encontrarás_ **

**_Ese alguien especial_ **

 

That last sentence was said with such level of softness that he was sure it was made specifically to seduce him.

Out of the blue, a hand started shaking his shoulder and something similar to Phil resonated inside his head.

Phil…

“Phil! Earth calling Phil. Is someone in there?”

“What?” his marshmallow bubble was popped by non other than his brother. Right, he was having dinner with his family.

“I’ve been calling you for like two minutes. What were you thinking about?” Martyn sounded genuinely curious.

“I have no idea what just happened. That guy started singing and my mind had a mind of its own… if it makes any sense.” It was difficult to explain because he himself couldn’t understand what had happened.

“That was a cool version, wasn’t it? I wonder if he translated that himself or he found those lyrics online somewhere. His Spanish is really good.”

“I wish I had payed more attention in my lessons at school.” Phil groaned, but being honest, he was more busy listening to the sound of his voice than to the actual lyrics.  
With his right elbow on the table and his head on his hand, he directed his eyes in the direction of the piano one more time, but that young man wasn’t there anymore. He blinked and lifted his head, searching for the brunet set of hair around the restaurant. White t-shirt, brown hair and voice of an angel, that’s all he had. But there was one thing he knew for sure: he needed to talk to this guy. Who was he? Why was he so special? Was he some kind of music wizard? _Was there such a thing as a music wizard?_

“Hey! Stop going to your own little world and ignoring us. Your mum said she’d go to the restroom and she’ll be ready to go home when she’s back.”

It was only then that he noticed his mother wasn’t sitting on her chair anymore and that his dad and Martyn were talking animatedly. Cornelia was still looking at him with a worried expression on her face.

“Are you feeling okay? Has your migraine gotten worse?” She extended her hand and touched Phil’s forehead with its back.

“Actually, it’s gone. I don’t know how because it was killing me when i got here.” His tone started getting lower. “There’s something about that guy..”

“Oh, don’t you think I didn’t see you basically ogling over the piano boy.” Why was she using such a suggesting tone?

“First, he wasn’t a boy. He might as well be my age. And second, I wasn’t ogling. You make me sound like a sexual predator, which I’m not.”

“But you _were_ looking at him. Did you like him?”

“I didn’t mean to. One minute we were all laughing at Martyn’s stupid joke and the next one my eyes are fixed on him and I can’t think straight anymore.”

“That’s the thing, sweetheart. You can’t think straight if you’re not straight.”

“Ha, ha. You’re so funny! Now I get why my brother’s married you.” Of course, all of his words were charged with sarcasm and she answered by sticking out her tongue at him. Luckily, his mother chose that exact moment to come back and, instead of going back to her seat, she stood behind Phil and wrapped arms around her son.

“Hello, child.” She faked a posh accent, as she would do.

“Hello, mother. How may I be of service to you on this lovely night?”

“I wanted to share with you the absolutely irrelevant fact that I just ran into the boy who was playing the piano on my way here. He seems lovely.” Nothing escaped his mother’s sixth sense. She always knew what was going through her sons’ heads. How? Mum powers.

“You did?! What did he say?” All fake accents left aside, Phil’s head turned like an owl’s would do and looked at the woman behind him with his baby blues open like plates.

“Oh, I just told him his playing was impeccable and he blushed! You should’ve seen him.”

“Mum! Did you get his name? Anything?”

“I’m your mother, not your secretary, Philip. Plus, you’re a big boy. Go get your own man.” And with that comment, she left him and Cornelia to their thoughts. He hated his family.

He didn’t want to give it anymore thoughts, so he stood up from his chair and announced that he was going to the bathroom and then they could leave. He just wanted to splash some water on his face and be on his way. Maybe when he got home he would still have enough energy for one more Sense8 episode. Has Hazel left enough ice cream to get him through one hour of Netflix?

Phil’s mind couldn’t wander much longer because his train of thought was interrupted (again, what is it with people and interrupting trains of thought?). He didn’t mind this one, though.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

He couldn’t speak. Imagine a tiny librarian in a tiny library going through a thousand dictionaries in one millisecond. That was Phil’s brain at that moment. He tried looking for something smart to say but what came out of his mouth was utter rubbish.

“What are you?”

The stranger started rubbing one specific spot on his forearm without breaking eye contact. He was handsome.

 _Fuck_.

“Excuse me?” the man said with a chuckle.

What was he saying? Oh, yeah. He was going to ask for his name. He pulled himself together and decided to try again.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” He shook his head while trying to get his thoughts in order. He had been a complete disaster that night. “I’m Philip Lester, but everybody calls me Phil. Your music was amazing. I’ve never heard anyone play the piano like you do.” He extended his right hand towards the stranger. He was being really awkward.

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. I’m Daniel Howell, by the way, but my friends call me Dan.” Dan reached with his own hand.

The moment their hands touched, they both stopped chuckling and stared at each other’s eyes. They have felt it, and everything suddenly made sense in Phil’s head. All the puzzle pieces started falling into place. The subtle burning feeling on his arm; his migraine suddenly gone; this Dan guy rubbing one specific spot on his own arm. It was too good to be true and too weird to be a coincidence.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel Howell.” Their eyes were still fixed on each other’s and neither let the other’s hand go. Both their expressions were of complete surprise, but Phil could clearly see how a faint shine flickered behind Dan’s eyes and a smirk appeared on his face. He would’ve done the same thing but heaven knows he can’t pull it off. He didn’t have Dan’s charm.

“The pleasure is all mine, Philip Lester.”

They finally separated from each other and Dan took that chance to roll up his sleeves up to his elbow, simply out of habit, and Phil couldn’t help but to glance at Dan’s arms. He wasn’t a particularly muscly person, but it wasn’t that what caught his attention. There was a delicate string of black writing. Of course.

“What are you?” Phil read out loud. “I’m sorry you’ll have to carry that forever on you. If I’d known, I would’ve been more careful. Though, being honest with you, I would’ve fucked that up too by apologizing and then you’d have just a string of ‘sorry’s written on your arm.”

The young musician seemed confused for a few moments until he decided to follow the direction of Phil’s eyes and saw what he’d been waiting for for a long time. Not his entire life, but a fair few years of it. The confused smirk he’d been sporting changed into a face-splitting smile.

“Oh! I reckon it could’ve been worse. What does yours say?”

Phil hadn’t even thought about looking at his own forearm. The burning, right. He rolled up his own right sleeve and there it was, on the same neat writing.

“ _Tienes la invitación y sabes la dirección_ ” Dan almost sang it as if he couldn’t help it. “It wasn’t even an iconic or cheesy part of the song! That is really lame, I’m sorry.” And he was back to chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck as one would do in such awkward situations.

Phil didn’t know Spanish would turn into his new favourite language.

\-------

After that night, when they didn’t just exchange phone numbers but Dan also got introduced to everyone in Phil’s family, they would find any excuse to hang out. Even if it was just for a one hour lunch break or some light banters after work.

They discovered they had so many things in common: they both were extremely geeky and nerdy, their taste in anime and movies were quite similar and they appeared to have been risen with the same morals. For some reason, they’d talk about their lives at the most random yet personal moments.

Phil learnt that Dan had moved from his hometown a few years ago to become a musician in London and had left his family behind, but he would go back to visit them every once in a while.

“I get along really well with all of them, except for a few cousins and aunts or uncles who didn’t take it very well when I came out, but they aren’t important.” He had whispered on the blue eyed man’s ear while they were cuddling on the couch watching Bake Off (what could they say? They love cooking shows).

Another day, when they were waiting in line at the cinema, Phil said “my favourite colour is green. It reminds me of freshly cut grass and a cat my uncle used to have when I was a kid”. It was with moments like those where Dan decided to thank fate for putting this incredible man-child on his way.

“I like monkeys. They make the funniest faces.”

“When I was a child, I told everyone I was moving to America to see what they’d do.”

“I once tried to sell an axe to a child.”

“I sometimes enjoy randomly listening to country music. It’s really weird, I can’t explain it either. It’s just that mood.”

But it wasn’t until they were properly lying on Phil’s bed on a self proclaimed lazy Tuesday (why on a Tuesday? They just felt like it) that Dan let out what Phil didn’t know he needed but definitely loved.

“I took Spanish at school and really enjoyed it, so when I finished, I studied with a private teacher. I’m quite fluent now.”

Phil lifted his head from Dan’s chest and looked at him with surprise and a hint of playfulness. He needed to hear this.

“Really? Tell me something in Spanish.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.”

“I don’t know. Give me ideas.” He chuckled at his soulmate’s eagerness as Phil turned around and took the book he was reading from the night table.  
“Read this in Spanish.”

It took Dan a few moments to read and translate it on his head so that it would make sense.

“ _Quienes tienen mi misma edad recuerdan dónde estaban y qué hacían la primera vez que oyeron hablar del concurso. Cuando en el canal de vídeo apareció un flash informativo anunciando que James Halliday había muerto esa noche, yo me encontraba viendo dibujos animados en mi escondite._ ” He stopped reading and looked at his boyfriend, who was in absolute awe. He seemed as if he was in some sort of trance.

“You sound so sexy in Spanish. You’ll do that more often now.”

“ _Como quieras_.”

“Ugh. No, stop. I take it back. I can’t live with you speaking to me like that.”

And that’s how Dan learnt how to get anything he wanted. Whenever he needed something from Phil, or if he simply was too tired or too lazy to get something himself, all he had to do was say it in Spanish he’d have the older man at his feet.

“Phil, could you get me my laptop charger, please?”

“I’m as tired as you are, get it yourself.”

“ _Por favor. Necesito el cargador para seguir editando. ¿Sino para que tengo un novio tan hermoso y amable como tú?_ ”

“I literally hate you. I hope our kids don’t take after you.”

And that simple sentence, said without any second intentions, would be a detonator for one of the most important conversations of their lives.

\-------

If you had asked twenty-year-old Dan what he saw himself doing in ten years time, it wouldn’t have been this. He had just got home from work at the theater (he was now a very popular pianist and was constantly hired by many different stars to be on their bands) and he found his husband and son asleep on the floor. It was almost midnight, so it’s reasonable.

He gave himself a few moments to appreciate this picture (and take an actual picture, too) before hanging his jacket next to the door and taking his toddler to bed. Luckily, Charlie (“I think it’s a good name. It could be a girl or a boy’s name, or even gender neutral”) was already on his pajamas, so all he had to do was tuck him in and leave a kiss on his forehead, but not before turning the little night light plugged on the wall.

Dan went back to the living room to see that his husband hadn’t moved from where he was. Silly Phil, always falling asleep in the most uncomfortable places, how could he do that? Since he had changed job (Dan convinced him of leaving the company and finding something he felt passionate about. “Also, I don’t like that co-worker of yours. He’s creepy”) and started working at a design company, he assumed the role of housewife. He knew Dan’s timetable was all over the place depending on when he was called to rehearse or play, so he was in charge of cooking and entertaining Charlie.

“Hey, love. You need to get up and go to bed. This cannot be good for your back.” He whispered as carefully as he could on Phil’s ear. He didn’t want to startle him.

“Uh? What happened?” Phil opened his baby blues and looked around until he could focus on his husband. “Oh, hi. Welcome home.” He smiled a lopsided smile.

“Hi. I already put Charlie into bed, so don’t worry. I think we should go too.” He couldn’t help but sort of giggle at how cute this man’s face was and tucked a loose lock of dark hair behind his ear.

The love and appreciation on each other’s gazes were undeniable and have been there basically since they first stumbled upon each other at that restaurant all those years ago.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.”


End file.
